


And One

by Konbini



Category: Mindhunter (TV 2017)
Genre: M/M, Top Holden, bottom bill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 07:09:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27129707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Konbini/pseuds/Konbini
Summary: Bill doesn't tell them. He doesn't tell anyone about Nancy leaving.Holden finds out anyway.
Relationships: Holden Ford/Bill Tench
Comments: 8
Kudos: 31





	And One

Before Nancy leaves him Bill already knows how he looks - his eyes are red rimmed, his skin is clammy and he can't seem to get the stink of fever sweat off of him. He walks around like that for awhile, like a hollow eyed ghost. Unwell. Mostly he can't believe what's happened. There's a visceral clench in his stomach when he thinks about it.

Then he tells Wendy about Brian and that helps. Taking confidence in a colleague and friend. Wendy - with her endless insights. Suddenly - it's not that it doesn't feel as big - but it feels just this side of...manageable. Like maybe it's just something that happened. That it's not a reflection on Brian. That it's not a reflection on Bill.

He tells Holden when he really can't hide it anymore. When Holden pulls him aside in Atlanta for a reprimand and the only thing Bill can do is explain, pretend like it isn't a big deal, like he's handling it. (And isn't it like an echo of their conversation in the car after Bill botched that one interview? Even then it's like he'd known that one day Holden would overshadow him, would become the defacto authority, would be his boss maybe).

Bill isn't lying when he says it - he is doing his absolute _absolute_ best.

It isn't good enough.

After Nancy leaves Bill tells no one. It's the weekend, there's no one to tell. He doesn't think about Monday because Monday seems impossibly far off - like it doesn't exist. There's odds and ends left - a half used bar of soap under the bathroom sink, dish soap with a sliver left at the bottom, a used sponge. Bill's clothing, Bill's office, is untouched. Of Nancy and Brian - there isn't a trace.

 _Unless Bill counts the crime scene photo Brian hid under his mattress._ It's that thought that sends Bill into a tailspin. That causes him to - not crumple - but twist to the ground, almost like a toddler having a tantrum. He beats his fists against the floor.

It's not enough. He gets up and he hits the door jamb with his forearm. He does it a couple more times until his arm feels hot - swollen and bruised. He wants to rage and ruin. Slam himself against something. He realizes though that it's not ever going to be enough. All he'll really be doing is creating evidence he cannot hide. So Bill stops himself. He very calmly smothers the rage inside him. He calls it rage but really it's something like desperation, a hot spike of betrayal, a hopelessness so daunting Bill doesn't dare stare it in the face for fear of what he'll do.

She could have left him a picture. Didn't he at least deserve that much?

The next morning Bill goes out and buys sheets, a blanket, a set of towels. He doesn't buy groceries - although they're all gone - because he knows they'll spoil anyway. He gets dinner at a diner, looks like all the other normal men there.

When Monday comes Bill goes to work. Holden is a ball of energy and Bill is too bone-weary to engage him. Luckily Holden takes the hint and quiets during the plane ride. Holden's been more forgiving of Bill's limitations lately and Bill knows it's because of Brian's situation. He doesn't deserve to use that excuse now, but he can't tell Holden the truth either.

They continue to surveil Wayne Bertram Williams as the Atlanta PD build their case against him. Well, Holden does. Holden is incontestably the man in charge, Bill haunting the sidelines like a useless lackey. Holden still finds time to lay a hand on Bill's shoulder though, leaves it there - sometimes for minutes - until something happens to draw him away. And it's horrible, inexcusable that Bill lets him. It's meant to be reassuring is Bill's guess. Holden has always been the more demonstrative of the two of them. If Holden really knew the truth...that Bill had failed Brian, that he'd failed Nancy...well, Bill has no doubts of how quick and complete Holden's withdrawal would be then.

After a day of this he begins to get short and testy with Holden. Holden just looks at him with open pity, like he knows it's because Bill is really just sad and that only makes things a thousand times worse.

"Can you fuck off Holden?" Bill barks the next time Holden does it, shrugs his hand off viciously.

Holden lets out a sigh - he's not even shocked. He almost seems noncommittal at Bill's angry rebuke.

"Bill." He intones, and then goes to grab Bill's forearm.

It's bruised underneath and Holden's hand feels like a brand. Even Bill can hear his own sharp intake of breath.

"Fuck.Off." Bill says again. Holden does withdraw then, but he's got that look on his face. Like Bill is a puzzle that he's going to solve.

Stupid Holden doesn't realize all the messy pieces are waterlogged, and even if they weren't there was never that much of a picture anyway.

"Can we please just focus on the case?"

"Okay, Bill."

Bill ignores the fact that it sounds like Holden is humoring him.

It's great that they're no longer having to share hotel rooms - not only does it limit their time together but it means that Bill can hide the fact that he doesn't call home.

Bill finds he's only in Atlanta half the time anyway. He still goes back early. Sits quietly in Brian's room during the time that they would have spent at the psychologist. It's no penance at all. He's wasting Government time, Government money. He's perpetuating the belief in circumstances that are no longer true, he's taking advantage of his coworkers' kindness. He wonders when he became that man and realizes with a scoff that he was always that man.

It's like Bill is a bell. That uncontrollable rage ringing through him in endless tight, deafening waves as he lays awake in bed at night. He notices his hands are shaking so he twists them in the sheets.

It's not enough. It's never enough.

Bill gets up out of bed and in the next moment he is tearing the sheet. He goes for the blanket next but he can't quite manage with just his hands. He doesn't have a knife. He bites it with his teeth - so viciously it makes his jaw ache. At some point he realizes he's sobbing, the blanket in his mouth is wet with saliva. But he gets a hold of it finally with his incisor. And from there he makes easy work of it with his hands.

He's shaking after he's done. He thinks about going for _more_ things but - it's not enough. If he rampaged the whole house it wouldn't be enough.

So Bill locks that back up.

He cleans the bedroom with military precision. Sleeps like he's back in the military too - sparse and uncomfortable.

Holden goes to wrap up Atlanta without him. In the past Bill has always been an asset when it comes to dealing with grieving family members but Holden is something else. He goes above and beyond, makes friends and lifelong connections. The uncharitable part of Bill thinks of Holden as worming his way into their lives while Bill keeps a respectful distance.

Holden always seems to want too much - of the victims, of the killers, of Bill.

Bill's typing a report as Wendy approaches.

"Guess who I got you." She says, and Bill knows right away he isn't going to like it.

He's not like Holden, he doesn't get excited at the prospect of confronting predators. Usually he would say something smart but today it's not in him.

"Gacy." Wendy says when there isn't anything forthcoming.

Gregg sits up straighter at his desk at the name.

"Ah hell." Bill says.

The man's barely been brought to justice. Also, the whole killer clown aspect seems right up Holden's alley.

"Holden won't be back in time. There's a window on this. It's important Bill - do you think you can stay on an extra day?"

Bill swallows. He'd make a show of saying he has to ask Nancy but the thing is - when has he ever asked Nancy? He's always just imposed his will on her. Has always just done what _he_ wants. Always chasing a more important case. 

"Sure." He says.

He's a terrible husband. A terrible friend to Nancy even. Friends since they'd first met in grade school and Bill has taken the patience of a woman who is near a Saint and broken it.

Wendy chances a glance at Gregg - who immediately turns his nose into his work like he doesn't want to be dragged into this.

"I can go by myself." Bill says, words sticking in his throat, the thought of Nancy still near.

It's probably easier that way anyway.

It goes badly. And just to think - a couple months ago Bill was the one being asked to make sure things went smoothly for Holden. Now Bill would give almost anything for Holden to be present with his glib misdirection, with his ability to fill up a room so Bill can take refuge in the corner.

"I like them a _lot_ younger but I suppose you'll do, for now."

Bill recognizes the hook of course. That need to control the audience, to cause revulsion. It gets to him every time if he's being honest. Today he lets it show maybe a bit more than usual.

"Save it for the tape." He says brusquely and sets it up.

When the light blinks on the man leans forward into it, speaks low and threateningly.

"I can see they didn't send me the pretty one."

It has the same ring of Brudo's _I miss you Bill_ and it's so predictable Bill almost wants to roll his eyes. The only thing that stops him is the thought that Holden - while out of Gacy's age range - is still quite close to the victim profile.

"Are you sure?" Bill says evenly, "It's not like our pictures are in the paper."

"Word gets around. Pretty boy and his big, dumb, lumbering side kick."

For some reason, it kicks a little close to home. Bill used to be the wunderkind, believe it or not. Now he's past his prime, and Holden is outstripping him at every turn.

"I can see I hit a nerve." he smiles, then leans towards Bill conspiratorially, "Trust me I know how that feels."

"Know how what feels." Bill flounders, snapping back to himself dumbly.

"To be you."

Bill feels a chill go down his spine and he suddenly wants to cry.

"We're here to talk about your crimes." Bill says stoically.

He already knows Wendy and Holden are going to listen to this and shake their heads at the opportunity to get inside Gacy's head that Bill has just passed up. Bill briefly closes his eyes. It's foolish to think a natural predator won't hone in on it immediately.

"Oh I like you. For you I could make an exception. You look sort of like the man from my childhood. Like the one I'd really like to pay back. Would you like to know what I'd like to do?"

Bill isn't prepared for this - not at all. He'd had brief thoughts in the past that he'd have to prepare Holden for this possibility but he never gave a thought to himself. He finds himself frozen.

"I'd get you in cuffs first. Behind your back. Then -"

"S-stop." Bill chokes out.

He's read through the cases. He knows what comes next. They were all boys, just boys. Gacy laughs.

"But like I said, you're too old. Maybe you have a son -"

Bill makes some kind of noise, like a whine maybe. All the muscles in his body feel locked up, like he can't move.

"Yeah, you have a son."

"don't you - " Bill manages to threaten weakly.

It's not like this man would even be able to find Brian but just the _thought_ of it -

"You'd let me cuff you and stuff myself up that tight hole of yours if I just left your boy alone, huh?"

"Yes!" Bill spits angrily, incensed at the implication that he wouldn't.

He'd do anything for Brian. He should have done better for Brian. But Brian isn't his. He's just a spectre, cold and untouchable, unreachable, passing through. And that more than anything makes Bill's heart clench. Brian's not like Gacy.

He's not.

"Not that that's the fun part! No the fun part is listening to them gurgle. Blood in their lungs -"

The guards intervene at Bill's outburst and Gacy's continued antagonism. It must be glaringly obvious to them it's out of control - Bill's reddened face, the angry twist to his mouth, his white clenched fists. Gacy laughs and laughs as they pull him away, still describing his heinous crimes.

He grips the cassette tape tightly in his fist the whole flight back. He wavers back and forth on whether to crush it. He could say something happened, that it just didn't pan out.

He's sick of lying though.

When he gets in Holden is back. Holden acts like nothing happened, like Bill hasn't cussed him out the last time they saw each other. It's how men are supposed to act. How they'd acted after Holden's meltdown.

Bill still remembers staring down at the bag and clothes he'd let Holden borrow, at the $300 check. Returned nice and neat to his office, as if it'd never happened. A twinging of guilt in his chest.

He'd told Holden to haul himself up by his bootstraps.

Bill should be able to do the same.

"Killer Clown, huh?" Holden muses, "I wish I'd been there to see that. If we play our cards right Wendy says there'll be a chance for follow up interviews."

Don't hold your breath, the old Bill would have said.

"How's Atlanta? All wrapped up?"

"Sure. I'm more interested in what's on that tape."

Figures Holden would be. He's like an excited puppy following Bill to the screening room. Wendy and Gregg come in and they all sit down.

"This one...didn't go so well." Bill states as neutrally as he can. "Frankly, I don't want to be here when you listen to it."

Holden flashes a quizzical look at him.

"By all means." Wendy says calmly and gestures to the door.

Bill leaves, and then - like the coward he is - he makes sure he's out the door before they finish it.

It's not even an hour later that the door bell rings. It's Holden, because of course it is.

Bill freezes. He debates on whether he should pretend he's not home but his car is in the driveway and if Holden looks through the front window he'll see the empty house. The blinds are drawn but not perfectly so and if Bill goes to correct them and is caught he knows it will be even more suspicious.

He whips the door open and steps out on the landing - as if Nancy is inside and he doesn't want her to hear.

"Bill." Holden says with no small amount of relief.

"What Holden." Bill doesn't even bother being polite.

"I just...I just wanted to see if you were okay. We all did. I told them you wouldn't want to be crowded."

The rage is back, floods in so suddenly that Bill wobbles on his feet.

"You think I can't handle someone implying that I failed Brian?" Bill trembles, stepping toe to toe with a surprised Holden, "Why is that? There something you want to tell me? Like you think I failed Brian maybe?"

"God no." Holden goes wide eyed, then dampens dramatically with sorrow, "I just wanted to see if you were okay after being sexually...assaulted?"

Something about Holden always feels false to Bill. Like he's mirror emotions he thinks he should have. Like it's all smoke underneath.

It takes Bill a moment to realize that it was a question and Holden is expecting an answer. It confuses Bill for a moment before he realizes those are the conclusions Holden has drawn from the tape. Yet even that confuses him until he thinks back over the words that were exchanged. When he does Bill finds that his face feels hot.

_You'd let me cuff you and stuff myself up that tight hole of yours if I just left your boy alone, huh?_

He hadn't been thinking of that part of it at all - only of how it related to Brian.

"Of course I wasn't - he didn't." Bill assures, stuttering briefly on the first word.

Bill isn't even remotely similar to any of the victims. Holden should know better than anyone that Bill was never in any danger. Holden nods but there's that look in his eyes again, like he's not going to let whatever has caught his attention go until he puzzles it out.

"Can I come in?" He asks.

"Now's not a good time." Bill says even as Holden pushes past him and into the house.

Into the empty foyer and into the empty living room.

Bill feels tears sting his eyes, feels his blood pressure rise until it's pounding in his ear.

"Holden." He warns.

Holden predictably doesn't listen. Darts from room to room, stops briefly in the bedroom when he sees the shredded bedding piled neatly in the corner. Bill hadn't gotten around to getting garbage bags. Bill's jaw clenches. It's his weakness - exposed.

"Bill-" Holden manages before Bill tackles him.

They're both FBI trained but Holden is a bit more spry. Bill is heavier and taller - should have the advantage - but he's driven by emotion and sloppy. He gets one glancing punch in before Holden's able to subdue him.

He rolls Bill onto his stomach and holds Bill's arms up behind his back as he kneels over him panting. Bill bucks and squirms, tries to connect in vain. The sound of their breath is loud in the quiet house. When Bill stills Holden lets him go, mistakenly thinking that he's done. But after they stand Bill tries to throw another punch.

Holden catches it clumsily, presses Bill's wrist back and knocks him into the wall. He holds Bill there with his body.

"That's enough Bill." He says firmly.

Bill continues to fight, choking on tears now, as Holden pins him against the wall. Holden's fingers encircling his wrist so tight it's going to bruise.

Slowly, the fight drains out of him. Once that happens it's like all the strength leaves Bill's body. He slumps and Holden's arms are the only thing keeping him upright. Holden hauls him up and settles against him, leg between Bill's.

Holden's fingers sweep across Bill's face, wiping away tears.

"Shh." Holden hushes.

Bill raises a hand and grips the arm of Holden's jacket weakly.

"Are you sure he didn't hurt you? It sounded bad. It sounded like they had to drag him away from you."

The words are jarring. How can Holden be worried about that when he can see the mess Bill has made? How he's driven away Nancy and Brian.

"He didn't hurt me Holden." Bill says quietly, eyes averted in shame. Holden's thumb rubs a soothing circle on Bill's arm at the words.

They're barely inches apart. It's like the quality of the air changes when Bill looks up and their eyes meet. Like they both know what's going to happen.

"Don't." Bill whispers a split second before Holden leans forward and fits their mouths together.

"S'okay." Holden pulls away to slur back before he presses into Bill's body more firmly.

Bill's head is spinning. He can't see how they got here but all at once it feels like it was inevitable. His knees give out but Holden is holding him upright.

Their lips are less than an inch apart. They can feel each other's breath. There's nothing false in Holden's expression then. His eyes are swallowed by the iris. He looks...predatory. It's the only word Bill can think of.

" _Don't._ " Bill moans weakly when Holden leans in again.

Holden stops just before their lips meet. They're millimeters apart.

"Do you want me to stop?" Holden asks lowly, lips brushing against Bill's as he speaks.

Bill closes his eyes, feels too weary to protest.

There's a pause where Bill doesn't know what Holden is going to do. But then Holden pulls away. 

Holden sighs and walks away.

It takes a stunned moment for Bill to get his bearings. His legs tremble as he stumbles after Holden - who has gone into his bedroom.

"You don't have to stay with me." Holden says, surveying the scene, "But you can't stay here."

The thought of not having to face this place everyday...not having to face the ghosts of Nancy and Brian. It's more attractive than Bill has the ability to refuse.

"I'll help you pack." Holden says cheerfully, chances flashing his boyish smile although there's unease underneath.

Strangely it's the unease that makes Bill feel better. Like they're back on somewhat equal ground.

"I-I wouldn't want to impose." Bill says.

And that's how Holden know he has him. Bill can tell because the only emotion that seems to bleed from Holden then is triumph.


End file.
